


Fire In the Trees

by tatterwitch



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Autumn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 15:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16161308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: “Okay?”Keith wanted to ask if he was. The question would just unsettle James more, though. Keith settled for bumping their knuckles together before pushing his fingers between James’. PDA wasn’t Keith’s favorite thing but it made the drawn line of James’ mouth soften into a small smile.Automatic doors whooshed open at their approach. Warm air blasted down in the space between the set of doors. Their suitcase wheels rattled over the grates. The exterior doors opened with another mechanized noise.Keith cringed hard enough to throw his own balance off. Cold air bit through his tattered jeans and hoodie. A gust of wind near stole his breath away. His teeth immediately clapped together.“It’s fucking cold.”James laughed. Actually laughed.It was a nice sound that made a flurry of warmth burst in Keith’s chest. He almost forgot about the wind before another gust cut through the thin material of his hoodie.





	Fire In the Trees

The airport terminal was much smaller than the one in Newark. 

 

It was far, far smaller than the one they’d departed from in Arizona. 

 

Keith hiked his carry-on bag back over his shoulder and wrinkled his nose at the stale air of the baggage claim. 

 

The place was fairly empty. Tile scuffed by the wear of travelers’ feet, cleaning products, and suitcase wheels gave way to commercial carpeting. The rough floor was a dull brown flecked with oranges, golds, and threads of black. Framed posters of local attractions and reminders for travelers hung in perfectly-spaced intervals on the walls. 

 

Overhead speakers crackled softly as a boarding reminder was broadcasted. 

 

James tucked the folder with their boarding passes and itinerary back into his carry-on bag.

 

When James had heard that Keith didn’t have plans for fall break beyond staying at campus and binging Netflix in his boxers, he’d invited Keith to come home with him. Maybe  _ invited _ wasn’t the right word. 

 

James’ family had been hounding them about visiting ever since they’d become a couple. After a long phone call, there’d been little choice left to them. The Griffins had bought them both flight tickets in a bid to finally meet the boy that their son was dating. With that, things had been settled.

 

There was a monotonous buzzing noise from a speaker overhead. The conveyor belts for luggage rumbled to life, curtains of rubbery flaps snapping open as bags started around the track.

 

People shuffled forward, seemingly connected by a sort of hivemind. They stared at the luggage as it passed. 

 

Keith glanced away from watching them when James nudged his elbow. 

 

James already looked tired. Dark smudges bloomed beneath his eyes. His shoulders curved inward just a touch, so different from their usual strict posture. Soft brown hair was mussed from the plane pillows. There was a set to his mouth that Keith wanted to smooth away with a kiss. 

 

“My mom and dad had my truck brought up last night. It’s in the lot.”

 

“Wouldn’t it have been cheaper to call for a cab? Or we could’ve gotten an Uber.”

 

James’ laugh was more of a breathless snort than anything else. 

 

The crowd around the baggage claim had mostly dispersed, finally allowing them to step up and wait for their bags to reappear. The belts rumbled by carrying scuffed suitcases and a battered-looking shipping crate. 

 

“Even if those were easy to come by out here, they wouldn’t let me...Us do that. It was a fight just convincing them to bring my truck up and not meet us here, themselves.”

 

“They wanted to pick us up?” Keith caught the handle of his small black suitcase.

 

A set of cheery orange paper tags rustled as he lifted it from the conveyor belt. The wheels stuck a bit before he rolled it back and forth for a minute.

 

James made a face as he waited for his own bag.

 

“Yeah. But I just….I wanted some time to ourselves before we had to be with them.” James glanced over his shoulder with a small, boyish smile. “Especially seeing as this is your first time being anywhere past Albuquerque.”

 

Keith reminded himself that sticking his tongue out was immature. But it was tempting to do. 

 

James picked up his suitcase. The handle extended smoothly with a metallic click, wheels spinning easily over the coarse carpet. 

 

“Okay?” 

 

Keith wanted to ask if  _ he  _ was. The question would just unsettle James more, though. Keith settled for bumping their knuckles together before pushing his fingers between James’. PDA wasn’t Keith’s favorite thing but it made the drawn line of James’ mouth soften into a small smile. 

 

Automatic doors whooshed open at their approach. Warm air blasted down in the space between the set of doors. Their suitcase wheels rattled over the grates. The exterior doors opened with another mechanized noise.

 

Keith cringed hard enough to throw his own balance off. Cold air bit through his tattered jeans and hoodie. A gust of wind near stole his breath away. His teeth immediately clapped together.

 

“ _ It’s fucking cold. _ ”

 

James laughed. Actually laughed. 

 

It was a nice sound that made a flurry of warmth burst in Keith’s chest. He almost forgot about the wind before another gust cut through the thin material of his hoodie.

 

“Come on.” James tugged Keith under his arm and made for the parking structure across the way.

 

The dim sunlight blinked out in the shadow of the building. It was  _ colder _ inside, somehow. Fluorescent lights hummed faintly overhead. Little bits of leaves and debris swirled around the aisles of parked cars in the wind. 

 

“Here.” James stopped at a behemoth of white metal marked with orange stripes. A faded gold and green honor student sticker clung to the spot just left of the license plate. 

 

Keith lifted his brows. 

 

“Shut up.” The words held no heat as James ducked his head.

 

A flush crept over the tops of his cheeks while he pulled a keyring from his jacket pocket. He pressed the clunky black fob there. The truck’s engine roared to life, a puff of exhaust rolling from the tailpipe. 

 

“Pretty slick.” Keith loaded his suitcase into the open bed of the truck alongside James’.

 

His dad had had a truck back on the ranch. It hadn’t been anything like this one. More rust than paint had covered the body. The hubcaps had been lost long before Keith had learned to walk. The windshield was sunbaked and cracked in four different places. It’s bed had always been filled with tools, empty water barrels, and bits of hay. 

 

James’ truck was impeccably clean and well-cared-for. The interior was spotless and smelled like cedar. A dried palm frond folded into the shape of a cross was tucked beneath the cupholder. An emergency toolkit sat in the backseat with a plaid blanket folded beside it.

 

James reached back, grabbing the blanket. He held it out as he toyed with the heat settings on the dash.

 

“Here, this’ll help you warm up.”

 

The cedar smell clung to the blanket as Keith unfolded it and pulled it over his legs and shoulders. When he ducked his head to free a tangled corner, he caught the faintest whiff of James’ cologne. 

 

The truck’s heat kicked on, warm air rushing from the little vents. 

 

James buckled himself in before checking the mirrors and slinging one arm over the back of Keith’s seat. A little line appeared between his brows as he focused on backing the truck up. 

 

The darkness of the parking structure gave way to the grey light of the sky outside. 

 

There was little traffic on the roads. Old brick and mortar buildings lined the streets. Little hand-lettered signs stood outside shops and stores. It was so….Quaint. 

 

The road tapered to two lanes. The buildings and shops thinned before receding completely into the rearview mirror. 

 

Fields spread out beyond the edges of the road; some bare earth raked into neat rows, others waving stretches of grass. 

 

Beyond those….Keith gasped and turned to stare out the window. The blanket fell from his shoulders as he fumbled for his phone.

 

Brilliant reds, oranges, and golds spread over the treetops. The tones of the trees were wild and bold and made Keith’s fingers itch for his camera. 

 

“What?” James glanced over from the driver’s seat.

 

“The trees,” Keith snapped a few more shots before opening up a video screen. “They’re….It’s like they’re on  _ fire. _ ”

 

Dimly, Keith heard James chuckle again before the truck slowed down and pulled off onto a patch of gravel at the side of the road. 

 

“You want to get some better photos?”

 

“Is it okay?” Keith fumbled with the strap of his carry-on.

 

“Yeah. Lots of out-of-staters do it. As long as you stay out of the road, no one really minds.”

 

Keith ignored the biting wind as he jumped from the truck’s seat and angled his camera at the treeline. 

 

Gravel crunched as James came to stand at his side. 

 

Keith snapped a shot of a stand of brilliantly red trees. 

 

“Are they all the same kind of tree?”

 

“Nah. The red ones are Maple trees and Basswood. The purpley-red ones are Pin Cherry. Mountain Ash, Aspen, Beech, and Alder are the more yellowy-gold ones.The ones that are still green with the needles are evergreens, so they’re green the whole year.” 

 

James stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and glanced out over the fields and forest. The wind made his hair fall over his forehead and tugged at the slack of his jacket. Leaves and bits of dust flew up, swirling around them in a rustling cyclone. 

 

Keith’s camera clicked.

 

“I thought you wanted to take pictures of the foliage.” James turned, nose wrinkling the tiniest bit at the sight of Keith’s camera pointed in his direction.

 

“You’re still my favorite model.”

  
  



End file.
